Knee Socks and Favors
by GoodyGumDrops
Summary: Rosie is the eldest Stark girl. Bound for college, she doesn't want to depend on her family's fortune for funds. But when a family friend offers help, she hesitates. Petyr Baelish gave her strange vibes. Something was odd in the way he always creeped around her family...Something about the way he gently rubbed her shoulders set off an alarm…Modern Universe! Petyr/OC
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! I am delighted to present a new GOT fanfiction. Petyr Baelish is not a character that many people pair with an OC, and I thought it would be interesting to make a Bae/OC fic in a modern alternate universe. So…this story was born. Petyr's totally going to be like…a creep in this fiction, hahaha. I have to admit, Bae's actor Aidan Gillen is a handsome man…There is just something compelling about the way he portrays Petyr so eerily cunning and charismatic at the same time! Anyhow, I've put a lot of thought into how a modern GOT universe would work out. You shall see! I hope you guys enjoy!

**WARNING:** This fan fiction contains mature content and subject matter.

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Chapter 1- A Touch

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It was early morning on the first day of summer and the Stark family was full of anticipation. The younger Stark children were excited to end their home-schooling with Luwin for the year while Catelyn and Ned were happily waiting to welcome Robb home from university for the summer. Sansa, in that dreadful love-hungry tween phase, was eager to find her first dream boyfriend over the holiday. Jon was just happy to be leaving the Stark family after this last summer—he had been training for years to join the Night's Watch Armed Forces—and while he was sad to leave his half-siblings and home, he was more than ready to rid himself of the scornful eyes of Catelyn Stark and the whispers of his illegitimacy about town.

However, the eldest of the Stark girls—Rosie—was perhaps the most excited for the summer to come. Now 18, she had finished her general education, and she would be attending college in the capital city, King's Landing, after this summer. She had lived in the region of Winterfell her entire life—and she wanted to break free from the familiar town where her family was well-known and well-respected to explore the big city on her own.

Rosie smiled to herself, pleased to be free from Luwin's methodical tutoring for good as she tread down the staircase towards the dining room, long auburn waves trailing behind her in a messy low ponytail. She had just rolled out of bed, and she was far too lazy to change from her mismatched pajamas. Rounding the corner, she caught sight of Arya chasing a screaming Bran with a plastic sword. _Where in Westeros was the adult supervision_? Her brow rose as she cleared her throat.

"What are the rules, guys? _No running in the house_…." She crossed her arms on the final step of the stairs as Arya and Bran stopped in their tracks to shoot her guilty looks. Bran and Arya simultaneously mumbled under their breath.

"She was _chasing_ me…"Bran whined with a grumble, giving her wide brown eyes.

"You said girls couldn't fight!" Arya rebutted quickly, stepping forward madly with the plastic sword to intimidate him. Rosie held in a snort at the antics of the two children. _How she missed running around with so much energy and pluck_. She eyed Bran first.

"Girls can do anything that boys can do, _Bran_…" She chastised and he frowned as Arya stuck her tongue out in victory. Rosie then directed her stern look towards the lively tomboy.

"And _nobody_ should chase others around with a sword. _Arya_…" She scolded, holding her hand out for the plastic toy. It was Bran's turn to laugh in victory as his wild sister glowered in defeat and begrudgingly handed her weapon over to their older sibling.

Rosie took the miniature toy sword in her hands and gently bopped both Arya and Bran on their ruffled little heads with it before dashing towards the dining room with an amused cackle. The two young brunettes both joined forces and took off in pursuit.

"That's not fair!" Arya yelled out. Rosie could almost hear Bran nodding his head in silent agreement as the two followed close behind. She laughed evilly as she neared the sliding doors of the dining room.

"_Life's_ not fair, guys! Life lessons from your _beloved_ elders!" She turned her head to playfully taunt the two and saw them with wide smiles plastered on both their faces. _The best way to get two siblings to come to peace was to simultaneously pick on both of them_…It would seem the two young children had made up.

With a laugh, she sprinted to the dining room entry, sliding the blue stained-glass doors open. She did not, however, notice the two figures which were sitting at the long dining table in deep discussion as she dashed in with the two children at her heels. Stepping onto the hardwood floor in her socks, she lost her footing and slipped, falling onto her butt with a thump, the toy sword sliding across the floor under the dining table.

Bran and Arya laughed at her as she sat on the ground rubbing her bottom in pain before they went silent, both their faces pale as they stared forward. Rosie gave them a confused look before she heard the distinct clearing of a throat from the direction of the dining table. _Damn_…

Slowly, Rosie turned her gaze to meet the weary face of their father at the head of the table. It was not _just_ him, however; sitting beside him with multiple papers scattered neatly over the expanse of the table was _Petyr Baelish_—a longtime friend of the family. As prim and proper as always, his hair was neatly cropped and he wore a sharp pressed suit and the same elegant mockingbird pin at his ironed collar. _Did he ever wear street clothes?_ His face was naturally quite good-humored and refined, but she could detect the faint amusement on his features as he gave a slight smile and knowing nod in greeting.

She felt her face instantly grow hot with embarrassment. Not only had she childishly burst into their apparent meeting like a downright imbecile, but she had also managed to ungracefully fall on her butt in the process. It did not help that she was also clad in her less than mature nightwear—pink shorts, an old shirt, and a now uneven pair of horribly juvenile knee-high socks. _And I was swinging a toy sword like a looney…_An internal cringe threatened to meet her features as she lifted herself off the ground with as much pride as her adult-self had remaining—_which was very little_. Staring between her father and Petyr Baelish, who was now brandishing his usual deceiving smile, she spoke awkwardly.

"Good morning dad…_Mr. Baelish_…" A weak smile escaped her as her father smiled back tiredly. Petyr Baelish, on the other hand, offered a smirky-smile which would appear like a jovial expression to the average eye. But to her, it seemed more than smug. It was _alway_s plastered on his face…and it never reached his eyes. Her smile faded as chills set in. Something about him had always creeped her out, but nearly her entire family seemed to think the opposite as only her and Jon noticed something off about his trustworthy disposition and seemingly flawless reputation. Petyr Baelish was a bit of a mystery…He was a well-groomed and charismatic businessman who skillfully dabbled in politics, financing, and _God knew what else_. It seemed he had his hand hidden in everyone's cookie jar…_Including her family_. It did not help that he always appeared in the least expected of places and times…_such as now_. _He was like a damned shadow._

"Ah, _little_ Rose, _how you've grown_. You favor your mother's side in fairness. I always knew you'd outgrow your garden…" Petyr stood from his seat, his duplicitous words and hidden meanings all too familiar as she forced a smile and accepted his eerie compliment. His speech was _so archaic_ and he used _far too many eerie_ metaphors for comfortable conversation…_what did he even mean by garden_? _Was he calling her fat_? Her forced smile remained in place as she tried to analyze his overly friendly speech. She had thankfully not seen Petyr Baelish in over a year…Hopefully he would leave soon, and she could enjoy her summer, go to college in peace, and never see him and his creepy face and obnoxious little mockingbird pin again.

"Thank you, Mr. Baelish…So, what were you two discussing?" She returned awkwardly. Turning to glance behind her swiftly, she saw that Arya and Bran had run off in her moment of dire embarrassment. _Bloody traitors_…

Turning back around, she flinched with a gasp at the sight of Petyr Baelish standing right in front of her, obscuring the view of her father at the dining table. The corners of his mouth twitched with a subtle smile at her startled reaction and she could just imagine the well-oiled gears turning about steadily in his head...She had never actually revealed her true suspicions about the man to his face, but she could just tell that he sensed her discomfort…and the sick bastard probably relished in making her squirm over the years. Holding in a scowl of disapproval, she glanced up into his emotionless grey-green eyes—_don't let him smell your fear, Rosie_…

"Business that does not quite concern you children…_yet_. It is not my place to advise you on the matter, Rose. _That_ is for your father to discuss," He came in close as he spoke with his alarmingly calm and soft voice, hovering over her to plant a quick kiss on her forehead. She froze at the ghost of his trim stubble which had brushed between her brow. As he pulled away with an unnervingly pleasant trace of a smile, she blushed despite herself. Every time he came around the house to visit, he made her feel like an incompetent child. Not even her family called her by her given name—Rose. And she had never really liked the way he referred to her as "_little Rose_" all the time. Perhaps he knew how much it absolutely pissed her off. Without thinking, she grumbled out while rubbing her forehead.

"_It's Rosie_…" She looked down at her uneven socks as Petyr considered her with soft smile and vacant eyes.

"Of course…You are indeed not little anymore. But you must forgive a man for old habits," He rubbed her shoulder gently as her father came over with a light laugh from his seat.

"Rosie, Petyr will be joining us for dinner later this evening. Let your brothers and sisters know. I'm sure they'll be excited to see him again. He's brought gifts for you all from his time in King's Landing and the Eyrie. I'm sure you'll love to hear all about the capital, Rosie," The young woman looked at her father with a nod. Of course, _everyone else_ was thrilled to see Petyr Baelish…_The bastard_…

"Sure, dad. I'll go tell them now…" She hid her distaste at the notion of Petyr Baelish coming over for a _family_ dinner. Sure, he had been around since she was an infant…But that didn't mean she had to like the man. Before turning to leave, Petyr gave one last word.

"I look forward to seeing you this evening. Do not forget_ your sword, my dear_," His hands were clasped primly behind his back, his expression annoyingly affable and his eyes filled with humor as she paused and stared at him with wide eyes and burning cheeks. That smug bastard was most likely making fun of her…

"Yeah…" She replied blandly before quickly shifting past him and bending at the foot of the dining table to retrieve the blasted toy sword. The damned thing was stuck in the middle and she silently cursed as she got on her knees to climb underneath. _Stupid, stupid sword…Stupid socks…Stupid Petyr Baelish_…

Unnoticed, the man she was internally cursing keenly watched her move with the intensity of a hawk. On the surface, his countenance displayed friendly amusement at the girl's plight, but his stony eyes were truly focused on the manner in which the young woman was bent so suggestively. His gaze subtly trailed up her sock-clad calves to her exposed thighs. Those pink shorts were _quite_ short. If she were _his daughter_, she would certainly not be romping about in such attire. But of course, she was _not_ _his daughter_—_a most favorable truth indeed_. He stood even straighter when said shorts clung to the expanse of her bottom as she stretched under the table to retrieve the child's toy. _Yes, little Rose had grown into a woman of surpassing beauty over the past year_…and she was _far_ more beautiful than Catelyn had ever been. Indeed, out of all the Stark children, he had always favored Catelyn's first-born girl…If only they knew _how fond_ he truly was of the young woman. It was ironic indeed that Rose was the only Stark child to shift about him with little trust. It was wise indeed—he was a less than honorable man…A man that would _do everything and anything_ to possess what he wanted in life. As of late, he found himself wanting _very much indeed_…

Rosie grasped the toy sword and shuffled out from under the table. As she backed up, her right leg hit something and she glanced to the side to see a distinct pair of slickly pointed leather dress-shoes. Looking up blankly, she saw Petyr Baelish staring down at her with his fake smile and an extended hand.

"Allow me to help. We wouldn't want any more slips today," His gaze gestured to her socks and she pursed her lips before warily taking his hand. It felt warm and smooth as he helped lift her off the floor. As she stood with a fumble, his other hand rested on her upper arm to steady her.

She gasped at the cold sensation of metal on her skin and she quickly looked down to see the ring on his last finger—a dark metal piece with an oval-shaped black stone in the center. She swiftly shrugged out of his light grasp and made her way to the entry with the toy in hand, muttering a hurried thank you.

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Rosie angrily shut the door to her upstairs room with a huff. She threw the sword onto her bed before plopping down and burying her face in a pillow with a frustrated groan. It was official—Petyr Baelish gave her the creeps and his touch made her spine tingle in an unpleasant way. The man and his unsmiling eyes gave her goose bumps…His trim and meticulous appearance made him seem even more devious…_Stupid little bird-pin…stupid creepy-ass pinky ring..._She wanted to find out what his problem was—there was _definitely_ something off about him.

Over the years, she had come up with many theories about him. One cringe-worthy theory was that he was still creepily into her mom. He was at least six years younger than both her parents, and when he was young, he had proposed to her mother. _Was nobody else disturbed by that? _The man was single in his mid-thirties, and he never had a wife or any significant other of which to speak. _Unless he kept someone hidden in a basement all these years or something_…Rosie found it plain bizarre; Petyr Baelish was beyond successful and put-together…so why did he constantly hang around her family and poke his nose into their business?

She squirmed, further burying her face into the pillow as she thought about how not even her father felt uncomfortable about keeping the _master _of the friend-zone around after her mother apparently rejected him in their youth almost two decades ago.

It was not just the man's obvious remaining affection for her mother that disturbed her greatly; she had other theories about the slyly charming man. One was that he was secretly a psychopath that planned to kill them all…and another was that he got his less-than socially acceptable kicks from the women that worked for him in King's Landing.

_Yes_—it was well-known to everyone that Petyr Baelish owned a _surprisingly legal_ and flourishing business in the capital that sold sex in all shapes and forms…But _somehow _he was still well-respected and held an abundance of political influence. His power as an advisor and friend to many authoritative figures was more than shady… Rosie could just imagine him in the role of a puppet-master, working in the shadows and whispering in the ears of the wealthy as he plotted for his own personal gain. She sighed…perhaps she was just being paranoid…But she still didn't trust him, and she would do everything she could to avoid him during his stay in Winterfell. Hopefully he would leave soon…

Hoisting herself off the bed, she dressed in a pale blue blouse and simple high-waisted black skirt. She threw on a pair of flats and made her way downstairs to sneakily retrieve some breakfast before going to find her siblings. The Stark house and property was rather large; it would take a while to find everyone to tell them about dinner. Sighing, she entered the kitchen to see three familiar faces sitting at the table with their wolfish looking pup companions at their sides.

"_You two deserters_! You _left _me to die!" She playfully eyed Bran and Arya as they dropped their spoons into their cereal bowls, guilt on their little faces. Rickon was also sitting at the kitchen table, still cozily dressed in his pajamas as he quietly ate his bowl of sugary cereal, sneaking an occasional piece to Shaggydog. Bran was the first to defend their retreat from the dining room.

"We didn't leave you! We just came here because we were hungry…" Arya nodded her head in agreement as she took a bite of cereal. Rosie sighed and shook her head in amusement.

"_Whatever you guys say_…You two _would_ know who is coming to dinner tonight if you hadn't run away with your tails between your legs…" Rosie tried not to grin as the three children perked up, clearly curious.

"Who is it? Who is it?" Rickon flung his spoon about, getting specks of milk on the kitchen table and Arya's pup Nymeria, who was sitting close to his chair. Bran and Arya glanced at their older sibling, begging her to tell them. Rosie felt her iron will falter. _They were just too adorable to deny_.

"_Alright_, I'll tell you! Please don't give me the sad puppy-eyes!" Rosie laughed as the three children stood from their seats with a cheer.

"Mr. Baelish is coming to dinner tonight," Rosie took a step back as the three young ones jumped up and down in excitement, their pups circling them in shared excitement. _I guess I'm the only one not excited here_…She smiled weakly at their severe enthusiasm.

"Littlefinger is here! Did he bring gifts? How long is he staying? Where is he staying?" Arya questioned happily as Bran and Rickon looked on eagerly, waiting for an answer. Rosie flinched at their nickname for Baelish…He had told them the story of how he had grown up as a small boy on the smallest of a group of islands known as The Fingers. Thus he was called Littlefinger as a boy…But she certainly wasn't about to call him _that_. For all she knew, it was some perverted reference to his "_dabbling_".

"Slow down, guys! I don't know how long he'll be here, and I don't know where he's staying. _But yes_, he did bring gifts for everyone…Just be ready for dinner tonight, okay? Go let Sansa know, my little minions," Rosie covered her ears as the three squealed at the mention of gifts, running towards the staircase with their pups to go wake up Sansa.

Rosie sighed heavily—now all she needed to do was find Jon. Robb would arrive home in the evening; their mother had been so eager for his return from university that she had driven early to the airport to pick him up from his flight. Rosie had always held the suspicion that their mother favored Robb...he was her first and original child, after all. _That only meant Robb was a mother's boy... _She snickered and shrugged a coat on, making her way out into the cold towards the vast courtyard where Jon always ran and trained. She knew that mother would most likely not welcome him at the table for dinner…but she needed to tell him about Petyr Baelish's presence in their home. Both her and Jon found the man shady—a trait nobody else in the family seemed to detect. Walking the long path into the courtyard, she saw Jon jogging at a steady pace on the far side of the lawn with Ghost at his side. He took his training so seriously…She hadn't even seen him eat a cupcake or any other sweet in over ten years. His discipline and passion was beyond admirable. Jon was only a year older than her, yet he was mature beyond his years.

"Jon!" She yelled across the yard and Jon stopped in his tracks. Ghost stopped as well. He looked in her direction with a quizzical expression and began jogging over. As he neared, she could see he was drenched with sweat. He had clearly been training out in the yard since a very early hour.

"Rosie, it's cold out here…" He looked down at her skirt with a raised brow. She shook her head and gestured to his attire.

"It's always chilly out here, Jon. I'm used to it. Plus _you_ don't have a coat on," She gave him a look as she pointed out his sweaty grey t-shirt. He gave a small smile before nodding.

"Right," He stated simply before walking to her side and towards the long bench in the courtyard where his towel and water bottle were resting. She followed close behind, waiting for him to question why she was outside. He knew she preferred to leave him undisturbed when he was running since it was something he usually did on his own. Rosie liked that about Jon—he was a bit taciturn and he kept to himself more often than not, yet he was always the most attentive sibling when she needed to confide in someone.

"What is it, Rosie?" He picked his towel up from the bench and wiped his forehead before slinging it over his neck and sitting down on the bench.

"Baelish is here. And he is staying for dinner tonight," She huffed and Jon sat quietly for a few seconds, his brow furrowed as he carefully mulled over her words.

"What does he want, then?" Jon spoke out lowly. Rosie sighed.

"I don't know…He just _enjoys_ visiting us whenever he can. _Maybe he is busy plotting and he wants to enjoy a happy dinner with the Starks before he kills us all and sells our organs to his secret blackmarket distributor friends_," She quipped sarcastically with a frown. Jon smiled with a light laugh before shaking his head and standing.

"I don't trust Baelish, Rosie…_Your mother_…We both know he always visits to see her," Jon considered his younger sister as she bowed her head in agreement.

"He even spoke of gifts for us all, _the crafty sycophant_," She stood as well, crossing her arms and shuddering dramatically at the mention of his gifts. Jon smiled and gave her head a playful pat.

"Don't worry, I don't think he'll keep giving you dolls," He joked lightly. Rosie laughed.

"I know that, Jon…I'm just terrified of what he possibly could have brought an 18 year old girl…It's just a bit weird to be getting a gift from a grown man you're not even related to…family friend or not…I'm a grown adult, damn it!" She crossed her arms.

"Hey, Robb and I still unwillingly get gifts from Baelish…Is that not the same?" He looked on with mirthful brown eyes.

"It's not the same! You're both guys…" She sighed. Jon gave her a pat on the back before offering a sympathetic look.

"You can survive one dinner…Just accept the gift…Robb and I pleaded to stop receiving gifts long ago…" He chuckled weakly before placing his towel back onto the bench and quickly jogging across the path into the yard. Rosie watched him turn in her direction before he called out.

"Don't claw his face off, Rosie," He mused lightly before turning around once more to continue his rigorous jog. Rosie snorted.

"Trust me, I have more self-restraint than that!" She called out at his retreating form before she began heading back to the estate. She would endure one dinner with the creep, and then hopefully Petyr Baelish would be gone.

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Sansa tugged at a lock of long deep auburn hair as she wound it into a braid at the crown of her older sister's head. Rosie flinched at the sharp pain and brought her hand up to rub her poor scalp before the back of her palm was smacked lightly.

"You'll ruin it," Sansa whined in annoyance. Rosie pursed her lips and silently trooped on as she let Sansa do her hair for dinner. She heard the younger girl mutter as she finished up the elegant braid.

"It should be a crime to have this hair and _not _know how to do _anything_ with it," Sansa fussed with the long wavy bottom layers, attempting to arrange them into the perfect position. Rosie groaned before escaping her younger sister's clutches and standing from her chair.

"I know how to do a pony-tail…that counts for something," Rosie gave her young sibling a silly smile before looking in the mirror at Sansa's handiwork. Her face lit up at the sight of the beautiful braid Sansa had wound her top layer into. It sat like a small crown of hair on the top of her head as the bottom layer fell neatly down her chest.

"_It's beautiful_. You're like the hair-whisperer…" Sansa rolled her eyes at her sister's exaggeration before turning to fuss with her own fiery locks. Rosie exited Sansa's room, leaving the young girl to her own pampering as she tread downstairs in a fitted pale blue dress with long lacy sleeves and ballet flats. She really wouldn't have dressed up for a dinner with just Petyr Baelish…but Robb was coming home from university for the first time in a year, and _that_ was something to actually celebrate.

As she reached the second to last step, she saw the despised man himself standing ever so calmly at the foot of the staircase with the same calculated smile on his face as always. He had changed suits, but he still wore the mockingbird pin at his collar. _Did he have an endless supply of suits?_ She looked at him as courteously as possible.

"Why aren't you in the dining room, Mr. Baelish?" She asked politely, internally cursing him for creeping around the house when almost everyone was gathering in another area. The man stepped forward, holding his hand out cordially as she reluctantly made it to the final step. Rosie glanced at the hand before staring at his friendly face in hidden suspicion.

"Am I not welcome in your home beyond the dining room?" He questioned nicely, his voice warm as he gave her a perplexed smile. She took his hand, not wanting to offend him. He led her down the final step before his smooth hand slowly released hers.

"You're welcome here…but why aren't you joining everyone else?" Rosie felt the hand slowly caress the small of her back and she held in a shiver as he began leading her in the direction of the dining room with a low chuckle.

"As much as I do enjoy the _lively_ company in the dining room, your mother sent me to collect you from your sister. I understand Sansa will require some extra time in preparing for the evening," His eyes shone with mirth as he mentioned her sister's prolonged endeavor to get ready. She gave a light laugh, temporarily letting her guard down.

"She would be ready by now, but I asked her to help with my hair. She is a bloody perfectionist, so it took longer than I thought it would," Rosie tensed as she felt the hand gently rub her back, his guiltless gaze directed ahead as he continued to lead her forward innocently.

"You look stunning, my dear," The hand continued to rub along her lower back, his fingers never quite reaching low enough for his touch to be deemed blatantly inappropriate. She blushed at his compliment and nodded nervously, wanting to reach the dining room more than anything. As soon as she could get Petyr Baelish and his unsettling hands away from her, the better…As unnerving as his tender touch felt, the longer it remained, the more soothing it began to feel…And that disturbed her more than anything.

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**Bae is creeping…._big time_…But nobody notices except for Jon and Rosie…I've made Catelyn and Ned a bit more amiable towards Baelish in this story so I could wedge him in as a close family friend. In a modern Westeros, I think Baelish would be friends with the Starks by default since he is close to Catelyn and her family. I can't wait to take creeper Bae to the next level! Next chapter, the Stark children will receive their gifts. On a side note, the title to this story is inspired by two Arctic Monkey songs—Knee Socks and Do Me a Favour. Check them out if you want some songs which inspired the story! Till the next chapter, guys!**


	2. Chapter 2

Hey, everyone! I finally got this chapter up because I finished watching season 5! Anyhow, I love writing creeper modern Baelish. I think the best part of what I assume being modern Baelish is that he would still speak in an archaic, almost "cryptic" manner. I love duplicity! Hope you enjoy the chapter! From now on, this will be the normal chapter length (chapter 1 is usually much longer because it is a sort of pilot for me).

**WARNING: This fan fiction contains mature content and subject matter.**

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Chapter 2- A Gift

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Rosie held her breath as Petyr Baelish slowly ushered her into the dining room, his hand still lingering at the small of her back. Immediately upon entering the room, the faint sensation of his warm hand slid away as if it had never been there in the first place. She sighed in relief, but shivered as he smoothly slid past her and towards the area where her mother and father were conversing lively with Robb. _Of course_ he was back to hovering over her mother…_the serpent_. As much as she desperately wanted to greet her brother Robb, she did _not_ want to follow Baelish into the rather intimate conversation circle. It would seem she'd have to wait until dinner to speak with Robb. Searching the room, she spotted Bran and Rickon sitting together with their pups and a lone Nymeria. They sat at the far end of the long wooden dining table where various wrapped boxes and decorated bags were placed. She smiled and made her way over to her young brothers.

"Where's Arya?" She looked at the two curiously and gestured to Nymeria. It was a rare sight to see Arya's pup without the wild girl; they were nearly inseparable. Before the boys could answer, she heard a familiar snicker from underneath the dining table.

"I'm here!" The young girl popped out from under the table and grinned toothily before brushing the dust off her pants. Rosie immediately realized why the girl had been hiding in such a peculiar spot.

"Did mom insist you wear a dress?" She smiled as Arya nodded her head violently, her nose scrunching in distaste as she crossed her arms.

"I _hate_ dresses. But she can't make me wear one _now_—_it's too late_!" She celebrated cheekily before sitting alongside her brothers. Clearly their mother had given up…Rosie furtively glanced over at the far side of the room where her mother and father were laughing lightly at something Baelish had said. From such a distance, she could also see Robb wore an amused grin on his face. She frowned, wishing Baelish would just slither off so she could finally catch up with her older brother. But it didn't seem likely…Baelish was a charming conversationalist and he'd likely have them occupied for a while. _Damn him_.

She pulled a chair out and joined her younger siblings, plopping down with a huff. It was official—her fear and suspicion of Petyr Baelish had driven her to sit with the _children_…

_At least I'll be safe here…_She turned her attention to the rather large pile of wrapped presents which were arranged neatly on the table and she realized they were Petyr's _lavish_ gifts for everyone. She honestly didn't care to find out which one was hers, but she smiled at the excited expressions of anticipation on the faces of the three children sitting across from her.

"I see you_ little crows_ are already hovering over the gifts," She laughed as the three giggled and continued to shuffle in their seats eagerly. Arya pointed her finger to one of the boxes which was wrapped in bright pink paper with a laugh.

"I bet that one's for _princess_ _Sansa_," Her siblings joined her in giggles as Rosie shook her head at their antics.

"Don't pick on your sister. _Who knows_…perhaps that _pretty _pink box is for you_!" _She teased, causing the little girl to gag dramatically.

As the three children laughed and began a game of guessing who would get each gift, Rosie mindlessly stared forward at the pile, her eyes landing on a small black leather box. It was perhaps the smallest of the gifts—sitting rather simply among the colorfully wrapped presents with only a deep blue velvet ribbon securing the dark box. _Perhaps a watch for Jon or Robb?_ Her lips twitched up in relief—at least Jon and Robb still got gifts from Baelish too. She supposed it was better not to suffer alone in such a juvenile tradition…

She internally cringed as she remembered the last time Baelish had come around the Stark household. It had been almost two years since he had visited with his amazing tales and impressive gifts. She had been 16 at the time…and he had brought her a _doll. _After he left, she had secretly tossed the childish toy. Now that she was an adult, she could not imagine what horrid thing he _possibly_ could have picked out for her…The bastard had probably brought her another doll or other girlish toy to spite her once more. He_ knew_ she was suspicious of him…and therefore he made a game of infuriating her while her family obliviously threw him praise. She frowned_. I will not give him the satisfaction of refusing his stupid gifts…_

A small chime rang from the door to the kitchens, breaking Rosie from her frustrated thoughts as the Stark family's two chefs emerged with the first course. _It was time to sit for dinner_. She wanted to groan as she lifted herself, watching in silent anger as Baelish suavely pulled her mother's chair out for her to sit. Rosie walked forward slowly, her younger siblings rushing past her to sit as she realized Sansa had finished getting ready and was already seated snugly between Robb and Arya.

A bad feeling welled in the pit of her stomach as she realized she would have to sit at the end of the table…and that the seat across was not yet occupied. She gripped her palms as she neared the seat and Baelish greeted her with a silent smile, his long fingers lightly gripping the chair and pulling it out for her to sit. She internally cursed him as she quickened her pace, not wanting to keep the devilish man waiting. She nodded in a curt thank-you as she bent to sit, refusing to look Baelish in his stony eyes. As she settled into the seat, she tried to jerk the chair forward herself, but bit her tongue as she felt his presence looming over her from behind, the legs of her seat gliding forward neatly as he pushed her chair in. She blushed hotly at her plate. _I could have pushed my own chair in..._Once again, Petyr Baelish had made her feel like an incompetent idiot. _And the wretched man was doing it on purpose…_

Rosie clenched her jaw silently as Baelish smoothly rounded the table and elegantly settled in the seat across from her. Fueled by anger, she chanced a look at the man. Her heart nearly stopped as she was met with the sight of Petyr Baelish staring at her with a hint of a smile and…_warm _grey-green eyes_._ Her gaze immediately snapped back to her empty plate. She had been prepared for the usual smirk and stony look…but not…whatever _that _was. Never before had she seen such an expression on the calculated man's face. His eyes were _always_ cold and his well-practiced smile never quite reached them…But for the first time, there had been some strange emotion in those vacant eyes. It pierced through her and she felt her cheeks grow hotter as she silently prayed he was not still looking at her with _those eyes_. Petyr Baelish was a clever and _devious_ man…the thought of _him_ producing anything close to a sincere expression sent shivers down her spine.

* * *

The next thirty minutes of dinner went by in a blur. Rosie tried to ignore the presence of the man across from her as she spoke with Robb and enjoyed the first course that had been served. She was _actually_ enjoying herself, and she gradually forgot about the presence of Baelish across from her as he chatted with her mother and father. She chuckled with Robb as they both noticed little Rickon stealthily attempt to sneak a piece of bread to Shaggydog under the table.

Reaching for her glass of water to calm her laughter, she felt a light brushing across her ankle. Taking a sip of water, she shook her head with a light smile. Rickon _had _to stop letting Shaggydog sit under the table.

Placing her glass onto the table, she listened in silent amusement as Bran and Arya begged Robb to show them how to balance a spoon on their noses. Turning her head, she noticed Rickon sneaking another piece of bread under the table, Shaggydog's nose poking out as he took the piece of bread. As she watched the scene unfold, she lightly jumped in her seat as something brushed her ankle once more. _That was not Shaggydog._

In confusion, she saw both Nymeria and Summer calmly laying across the dining room_. If it was not one of the pups…_The sensation lightly brushed across her ankle once more and she shuddered. _There was no possible way..._Slowly, she glanced forward to see Petyr Baelish in deep conversation with her mother and father, his hands steepled as he spoke smoothly.

"Perhaps politics may be a _sweeter course_ of conversation when _dessert_ has reached the table," He gave a light smile as both her mother and father heartily chuckled over his witty remark.

She jumped as something gently rubbed across the side of her calve from under the table. Not once did Petyr's gaze shift to her, but she froze as she watched him, a smirk crossing his features just as the strange sensation brushed across her leg. _What was he doing?_ She waited silently, hoping that she had just imagined it. But then, the subtle smirk grew on his face once more as he intently listened to her father speak, and she felt the distinct leather of his shoe ever so lightly brush across the side of her bare leg. She inhaled sharply through her nose. _No._ Petyr Baelish _was not_ intimately running his foot across her bare leg under the table during a _family_ dinner. She refused to believe it. He probably didn't even realize he was touching her leg—_an honest mistake_.

Rosie jerked her leg to the side, pushing the offending foot away from her in hopes he would realize what he was mindlessly touching. With a pointed look, she focused her gaze on the man, waiting for him to turn and politely apologize. But his eyes remained fixed on her parents as he continued to converse with them. Rosie frowned to herself. _I am getting way too paranoid…_Suddenly, her father spoke from his seat beside her.

"Rosie, your mother and I were just telling Petyr about your plans for school in King's Landing," He gave a soft smile before her mother continued.

"We know you want to be independent…" Her mother spoke carefully and Rosie paused as she looked between the two blankly. She didn't like how they had mentioned Baelish. _Where were they going with this? _Her father continued with a pat to her shoulder.

"We thought it wise to have Petyr look after you in the capital. Robb will be in the North for his second year, and Petyr was kind enough to offer his help while you're away," Her father and mother beamed at Baelish and he nodded politely, his eyes meeting Rosie's as she internally seethed. This could not get any worse…and then she felt it again, the foot brushing across her ankle. She jumped up from her seat, knocking over her glass of iced tea in the process. She gasped as it soaked the hem of her dress and ran down her legs. Great—_now she looked like she pissed herself_.

Her mother stood with a cloth, coming to her aid as Rosie glared at Baelish's calm sitting form. He looked on in silence, staring with those strange eyes and a smug smile at the ridiculous tea stain on her light blue dress. _He's probably mocking me, the bastard…_This debacle was entirely _his _fault…If he hadn't come to Winterfell, then she would have had a peaceful summer with no giant tea stains on her dress and no worries. _Fucking Baelish…_

Rosie shook her head in slight annoyance as her mother began to wipe at the dripping hem, "It's _fine,_ mom…I'll go change…_May I be excused_?" She nearly whispered angrily as her mother handed her the cloth and nodded with a concerned look. Rosie turned and left the dining room to change her dress. Sighing, she looked down at herself as she ascended the staircase towards her bedroom. _I liked this dress too…_

She entered her room and looked at herself in the long-mirror on the far wall. A laugh escaped her as she noted it did indeed look she had wet herself. Walking to the closet, she stared at the line of clothing blankly. Did she really have to go back out there? She _could _just lock herself in her bedroom for the rest of the evening and refuse to return to the dining room until Baelish left…

"But that's what that _fucker_ would want..." She hissed to herself before yanking out a long-sleeved velvet dress. It was dark green—_at least it would not show if she accidentally spilled something else on herself._

Pulling at the short dress, she stomped down the stairs back towards the dining room, prepared for battle if necessary. If Petyr Baelish had indeed been rubbing his unwanted foot against her legs, there was _no way in hell_ she was sitting across from him in _this _dress.

When she reached the dining room, however, everyone seemed to have migrated to the other side of the table where the large pile of presents sat. Pausing at the stained glass sliding door, Rosie watched as Bran, Arya, and Rickon tore into their presents like wild little animals while Sansa and Robb skillfully opened theirs at a more graceful and appreciative pace. Rosie chuckled as she realized the bright pink box was indeed for Sansa. Eyes scanning across the dining room, she noticed her mother and father standing calmly near the children as they smiled and watched everyone open their gifts. But there was somebody missing from the entire scene. _Baelish_.

"_Best stay away from drinks this evening._ Wouldn't want any more spills…" Rosie went stiff at the low and gravelly voice which came from directly behind her. Hair standing on end, she quickly turned around to see Petyr Baelish standing with a small smile, hands primly clasped behind his back. She watched as his eyes trailed down in an almost appreciative way. _Where the hell did he appear from?_

"It'd be a _shame_…" Grey-blue eyes met hers as his smile only grew, "I do believe this dress is even lovelier than the last."

Rosie looked down at her feet before biting her inner cheek—a terrible habit when she grew nervous. _Why did he have to appear out of nowhere and leave her feeling so cornered? _She glanced up once more and nearly choked at the warm expression which had crossed his features. A hand slowly lifted to brush a dark auburn curl from her face before he titled his head in consideration.

"I still see _so _many traces of that little girl in there…Yet you and I both know you're too old for dolls, _Rose_," Rosie blushed despite herself as the man before her chuckled softly. _Why did he have to call her Rose?_

Before any more words were said, he smoothly reached into the upper pocket of his dark grey suit to produce a rather long rectangular box. She stared at the box of long polished wood, her brow furrowing in confusion before Baelish's voice sounded out gently.

"I wanted to personally ensure it reached your hands. _A congratulation of sorts_ _for your graduation_…I do hope it's to your liking…More so than a _silly doll_. You must forgive me for the…_previous fault_ in my choice of gift. You've grown faster than an old man can keep up," He smiled with mirth in his eyes as he held the box out. Her face grew even hotter—_he knew_ she had hated that doll. Suddenly she felt horrible for ever having believed Baelish would do such a thing _on purpose_. In a way, this seemed like a peace offering…

Reluctantly, Rosie reached out to take the smooth box from his hand. A shiver coursing through her spine as her fingertips accidentally brushed across his thumb.

"Sorry…" She whispered in embarrassment, trying to hide the awkwardness in her voice before nervously biting her inner cheek. Baelish merely gave a hushed smile of reassurance in response.

She held the box carefully, wondering what could possibly be inside. Anxiously, she pulled the hinged top open and quietly gasped at what was revealed.

Inside the box lay a stunning antique looking necklace. In the center of a delicate golden chain, a dark ruby teardrop was snugly embedded in an intricate crown of golden vines with small emerald and diamond accents. Examining the shining pendant closely, she realized that something was very finely engraved onto one of the elegant golden vines. It was so fine a detail, she had to lift the necklace towards eye-level to decipher it. Blue eyes slowly spanned the neat and swirling cursive which elegantly read her name—_Rose_.

With a hot face, she lowered the box and snapped it shut, pushing it back towards the man before her in shock.

"I-It's_ breathtaking_…but I _can't _accept this gift…_it's too much_…" Rosie's eyes franticly searched Baelish's face, hoping he was not serious about giving her a gift that was quite possibly more expensive than the _entire Stark estate_. She felt trapped when Baelish stepped forward, his warm hands wrapping around the shaking hand which fretfully held the box out to him. With absolute insistence, he gently pushed the box back towards her before softly squeezing her hand with both of his.

"It's _yours_, Rose. It was made especially for you; the _finest_ craftsmanship in King's Landing. I'd a feeling you would push it away, so I had it engraved. You must accept it, my dear. I cannot think of any other Rose worthy of such a gift," He gave her hand one more light squeeze before letting go, the ring on his finger slowly brushing across her knuckle. She felt horridly guilty now—the necklace was made just for her and she had no choice but to accept it. She sighed shakily, accepting the box before looking up at Baelish in uncertainty.

"I don't know how to thank you…it's gorgeous," Rosie whispered awkwardly, wondering if Baelish really wasn't so bad after all. She searched his face, her animosity for him crumbling as his deep gaze just looked _so painfully sincere_. He smiled—_it was genuine_.

"You need not thank me, my dear. You may have anything you wish of me. Your smile is all I ask in return," His eyes trailed across her pink cheeks as her lips reluctantly turned up in a small smile. His pleasant charm—_feigned or not_—was undeniably contagious. Baelish gave her a warm smile before his hand gently fell onto her shoulder.

"I've seen many sights, my dear. But that lovely smile of yours is by far the most precious," And just like that, his hand slowly retreated, his fingertips trailing across the fabric of her sleeve before he sent her a quiet smile, holding his arm out for her to take.

Rosie wanted to shake her head in disbelief. Just an hour ago she would have sworn to the grave that Petyr Baelish was a sycophantic rat…But now…she was doubting every suspicion or reason she had for ever despising him in the first place. She internally cursed his sudden and seemingly genuine disposition. _Why did he have to be so...nice? _Something about the new and improved Baelish threw her off guard.

Nerves on end, she accepted his arm. The pair walked on in silence towards the dining room, an unspoken sort of truce between the two. Rosie furtively glanced over at the quiet man beside her and flinched when her eyes met his penetrating gaze. The smile was there—plastered on with the same practiced delicacy as always—but _something_ lay in those dark eyes that sent a chill through her spine. Rosie felt her cheeks burn before swiftly looking away in nervous discomfort.

Petyr Baelish was a dangerous and manipulative man—_a _self_-made monster_…So why was he suddenly making her _blush_? Rosie's face grew hotter as she heard him lowly chuckle from her side. _Yes, Petyr Baelish was definitely dangerous_. She awkwardly clutched the necklace case in her hand. She dare not wear the lavish gift alone before Baelish. Hopefully he would not suggest helping her put it on when they reached the dining room.

Perhaps she would have been better off with another _silly doll_…

* * *

**Oh, Petyr's got some game! I think there's nothing creepier than Baelish secretively rubbing his leather shoes on somebody's legs underneath a dining table during a family dinner! And he got away with it, hahaha! Rosie's definitely doubting herself in this chapter. Hey, maybe Baelish is just trying to be nice …Ehem, he's definitely got an agenda…In the next chapter, I will include a few sections with Baelish's perception! The strange sexual tension can only grow from here! Until next chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys, here's the new chapter. I'm on an updating roll! Enjoy!

**WARNING:** This fan fiction contains mature content and subject matter.

* * *

**Chapter 3** \- Careless

* * *

With Baelish creeping around the Stark estate, it was difficult for Rosie to completely relax. Her mother and father had _kindly_ offered to house the shifty man during his lengthy two-week visit to Winterfell, leaving Rosie on edge in her own home. After the awkward dinner on the night of her brother Robb's return, Rosie had been avoiding Baelish at any cost, going to extreme lengths including diving out of the kitchen with an arm full of granola bars and even taking refuge in a pile of napping pups. Lady had _not _been very keen on sharing her plush bed with the less-than-stealthy Stark.

Today was no different—Rosie was on a mission to avoid any and ideally all encounters with Baelish. And so she stood in the doorframe of her room, vigilantly peering out to scan the hallway for any unsavory trace of Baelish. _The coast was clear. _Popping out of her room, the auburn-haired girl quickly ambled to the barred ledge of the staircase to peer down into the far kitchen. Satisfied with no signs of the man, Rosie sighed before relaxing and sleepily trooping down the stairs to get her much-deserved breakfast. It was currently _very early_ in the morning and nobody with the exception of Jon—who went on early runs with Ghost—would likely be awake. Hopefully Baelish slept like a normal human being.

As quietly as possible, she crossed the empty space towards the kitchen, ducking as she passed the windowed sliding doors to the dining room. She could not be too careful; the dining room had always been Baelish's territory during his visits. He liked to conduct sparsely worded "business" calls and sort through suspicious amounts of paperwork at the long dining table in there. She blushed, remembering her embarrassing encounter with Baelish on the first day of his visit. Never again would she romp around in _any_ dining room until the snake was gone from Winterfell for good. She was_ not _up for childishly crawling under any more dining tables in search of toy swords while he was lurking about.

Moving past the closed-off dining room, Rosie huffed as she stood from her crouched position and adjusted her pajama shorts which had essentially given her a wedgie, finally glad to have made it to the relative safety of the kitchen. She sighed, knowing her avoidance of Baelish was borderline manic, but the very fact that he had given her a necklace which he quite obviously had custom-made for her made her feel sick. Baelish was sly, and to slip under the radar of her normally watchful parents made him all the more a force to be reckoned with. Perhaps the gift was a token of goodwill, to get her in his pocket just like the rest of the Stark family. Or perhaps the necklace had a more sinister meaning, to lure her into his web of underhanded business and various other deceptive dealings. Rosie wanted no part of Baelish and his _schemes_...What if he-

"What are you doing up so early?"

Rosie jumped at the soft voice, clutching her chest with a silent gasp and turning to see a familiar untamed mane of black hair, the likes of which not even a hair elastic could fully contain.

"_Jon_, you scared the living shit out of me!" She hissed in a whisper, catching sight of a panting white mass of fur at her brother's side—_Ghost_. Jon chuckled faintly at his jumpy sibling.

"I'm not the one who's sneaking about," Jon gestured with a nod towards the dining room, a knowing smile crossing his perspiring face. The girl blushed—he and Ghost had likely seen her ungraceful crab-walk past the dining room. Hopefully she hadn't scarred the pair with the sight of her sad attempt at stealth.

"Please don't tell anyone about this, okay?" She sighed, knowing she would never hear the end of it from her parents. They would scold her for being "_rude to Petyr_" or being "_unwelcoming towards a guest_". Rosie snorted at the thought. Her own mother didn't even fully welcome Jon's presence in his own home, why wasn't she allowed to hate Baelish's guts?

Jon sighed at Rosie's frustrated expression, exhaustion from his early run clear as he pulled out a stool and sat at the island counter. Leaning down, he poured some water from his bottle into Ghost's nearby dish before placing it down and facing his sister once more.

"I won't," He promised sincerely, knowing that her mother Catelyn would not relent if she discovered her oldest daughter was on unfriendly terms with a long-time friend of both the Tully and Stark families.

Rosie smiled gratefully at her brother as she made her way to the cupboard to retrieve a bowl and some cereal.

"You're the best brother ever, _you know that_, Jon?" Rosie cheekily whispered as she poured her cereal, her back turned from her half-sibling. He remained silent, allowing her compliment to linger in the air as Ghost noisily lapped up his water. Rosie moved to the fridge to get milk, glancing at Jon's brooding form over her shoulder. He stared back at her almost reluctantly before gracing her with that solemn smile of his.

"I know," He nodded, returning her cheek with a tired chuckle of his own before standing from his seat, Ghost instantly at his side.

"Just stay out of trouble, Rosie," He made his way out of the kitchen, disappearing with a downcast smile into the quiet depths of the house with Ghost trailing beside him. Rosie sighed. Jon was _so much_ cooler and stealthier than she would ever be…

* * *

The sun had risen and the Stark children were all going about their various daily activities. Sansa had gone shopping with friends at the mall while Robb had gone out to meet with his childhood friend Theon Greyjoy. As always, Jon was off doing something _somewhere_ by himself... and the three youngest Stark children were probably playing or squabbling amongst themselves in the nearby Godswood. Rosie sighed—she _refused_ to be cooped up for the first two weeks of her final summer home just because of stupid Petyr Baelish.

She jumped out of bed, flattening her hair and pulling it into a somewhat decent ponytail before throwing on some comfortable clothes. Grabbing her phone, wallet, and keys, she decided she would just go out and lose herself in the crowd for the day. It was highly unlikely she would run into Baelish on the short trip to her car. Hell, maybe Baelish wasn't even in the house. He had to go out too and do _things_. He probably went somewhere seedy like the outer Wintertown strip-club...she had heard rumors that they didn't _just _provide performances. Of course, this information had come from Robb's annoying and perverted Greyjoy friend.

Rosie opened her door, stepping outside before staring straight into the very pair of beady green-grey eyes that she so despised. _Baelish. _Damn it all, why did he have to be _right outside_ her door as she was leaving? He gave her a crookedly smug smile before stepping towards her, slippery hands clasped neatly behind his back.

"Good afternoon, Rose. I'm happy to see you finally venturing out of the confines of your room," His crooked smirk grew as she stared agape at the small silver bird pin on the high collar of his pressed suit. _Damn it all_.

"_Hey…_" She half-heartedly greeted him, having no better response after being caught off guard in the least expected of moments. All sneaking efforts of the past few days had just slipped away in a mere second. She had _many_ words she would have liked to exchange with the wretched man, but such words were more than offensive…

"Would you care to accompany an old man out today? I've not been in Winterfell for many years now. I'd welcome the company of a guide such as yourself, my dear, " His head tilted, the ever-present smirk remaining on that punchable face of his. Rosie grit her teeth—he was toying with her, _and it was working_. Jon's warning from earlier that morning slipped her mind as she puffed her chest out, cheeks warm for no good reason as she looked away from the skilled flatterer. What harm would come from showing him around Winterfell? Perhaps he _wanted_ her to deny his request if only to make her feel even more immature. She was _not _about to let Baelish bully her into feeling like a little girl again. Screw it, she'd take him.

"I'd be _happy _to escort an old man around the town," She beamed at him, hoping to knock him down a few levels by throwing him the taunt of age. Rosie's smile faded as Baelish merely returned her words with a broad smile, his blank eyes holding no trace of offense. _Damn it_.

"After you _if you're ready_, my dear," He stepped aside politely, his hand gesturing towards the staircase. _Fuck, this was actually happening_. What had she gotten herself into? She didn't feel comfortable at the thought of galavanting with the pristinely dressed man all day in what she was currently wearing, but hell if she was going to give Baelish the satisfaction of knowing that. _Of course_ Baelish sought her out when she practically looked like a bum compared to him.

"_Ready_," She stormed past the man, self-consciously pulling the already long Direwolves t-shirt down to hide her old grey yoga pants. Didn't want to give the old man a show, if he even got off on anything besides chasing after her happily married mother. _Creep_. Rosie grudgingly lead on, praying that she would make it out of the Baelish-filled day alive or at least with her pride intact.

* * *

"_Ready,_" The auburn-haired beauty moved past him in a huff and his smirk grew. Of course the peevish young girl had fallen prey to such _obvious_ bait. Baelish found himself growing fonder of Catelyn's eldest girl as he noticed she shared her mother's stubborn disposition among other features...Her deep red locks whipped past him, his eyes leisurely drifting down to watch her shapely legs push towards the stairs. He caught sight of her painted nails, a powder blue, as he watched her tugging her shirt down, only further highlighting the round outline of her bottom.

The girl was _far too young_ for him...but the way she moved and looked at him with such unwarranted hatred lit a yearning fire within him that had long been dormant. His youth had been wasted on throwing his heart and soul to his first and only love Catelyn Tully...For many years he had both despised yet loved Catelyn's Stark children, yet little Rose had always undeniably been his favorite. Perhaps it was because she least resembled her father...Or perhaps it was because he somehow always anticipated she would grow up to be so much _more _than her mother had ever been. It was _a shame_ the fondness was not mutual.

Rose was eighteen years of age now, old enough to make her own adult decisions yet impressionable and young enough to have her heart twisted just as he had in the past. His once unrelenting love for Catelyn had waned over the years, and he felt himself grow more and more attached to the second eldest of the Stark siblings...He _wanted_ the spirited young woman before him, and he would patiently play his cards until she _safely_ fell into his grasp. The girl certainly despised him, but _hatred _was simply a whisper and a gentle caress away from love. Baelish would turn the girl in his favor, and provoking the future scorn of the Starks would simply be a welcome addition to getting what he truly wanted—a certain Northern _Rose._

* * *

Sitting in a dreadfully silent car and driving through town with Baelish beside her in the passenger seat was not exactly what Rosie had in mind when the man asked her to show him around Winterfell...She offered to park the car for exploration multiple times, but Baelish had merely shook his head and said he "_enjoyed sightseeing_" far more. What did he even mean by that? She bet the guy had creepy hobbies like birdwatching or something, and by birds she meant _married women_. With her glaring eyes focused on the road, she was unable to pay him too much attention as she drove around in circles, wondering if Baelish would notice and say something smart like he always did. But instead of striking up witty conversation, the normally charismatic man just sat there in silence, seemingly basking in the uneasy quiet. She drove normally after that. _Why had she agreed to this_?

"I'm going to turn the radio on, is that okay?" She was stopped at a red light and she glanced over at Baelish to see his amused eyes on her as he nodded in permission. She blushed. This was _her car_—she shouldn't have needed _anyone's _consent to play some music, let alone Petyr Baelish. Rosie quickly tuned through the radio stations, desperate to break the suffocating silence. Finally finding a song with an uplifting beat, she let both hands rest on the wheel in relief. _Thank goodness for music. _

The light changed color, and she gently pressed the gas to move onward, wondering if Baelish was playing mind-games or if he was genuinely taking in the view of Winterfell. Maybe he wanted her to crash the car in a fit of nerves? _The sick man probably wanted that. _ She gripped the wheel, turning her focus back to the music as she tried to pretend Baelish wasn't sitting beside her. It was then that she realized what was playing on the radio. Now that she was paying attention to the lyrics, she felt dread slip through her already uneasy mind. _No, no, no, no._ A string of lyrics involving _pleasure_ and _bodies_ met her horrified ears as the blush crept through her cheeks. _ It was too late_, the song had been playing for so long that if she turned it off, the awkward silence would only be brought back full throttle. She trooped on through the dirty lyrics, tapping her fingers nervously on the wheel in a new-found attempt to block out intrusive thoughts of what Baelish would be like fooling around in a bed.

Baelish seemed not to mind the song, though. She couldn't really get a good look at him, but at least he wasn't saying anything. Silence was a good sign, _right_? Clearing her throat, Rosie nearly choked with relief when her phone buzzed from the dashboard. _Thank you_, whoever was calling. Rosie reached over to turn the music off, using the phone call as an excuse to get rid of the mortifying song.

"Could you see who it is? It might be important," Her voice cracked awkwardly as she asked Baelish to check her phone, still focused on driving.

"Certainly," Baelish reached forward and took her phone in his hands. He glanced at the screen and smirked to himself as he read out the caller's name.

"It's your mother, it would be _wise_ to accept the call," Baelish's voice sounded with mirth, and Rosie seriously wished she could look over at him to see what kind of eerie expression was on his face. That face with the neat mustache...which she was _not_ picturing between her legs. _No_. _What was wrong with her, today? _It had to be something hormonal.

"_You answer it,_" She said quickly, knowing that Baelish was more than willing to talk to the woman of his friend-zone dreams. Little did she know, Baelish wanted to answer the phone for other reasons.

"_Hello_, Cat," Baelish answered her phone and Rosie rolled her eyes at his affectionate nickname for her mother. _Of course he was extra nice to her mother._ What Rosie could not see, however, was the appreciative smile across the man's face as he let his eyes carefully roam over her from the side. He took in every freckle—every little scar and beauty mark gracing her pale skin. Catelyn sounded taken aback as he answered her daughter's phone. He chuckled lightly.

"Not to worry, she's with me. Your daughter was kind enough to take an old man out today," He spoke warmly into the phone and Rosie rolled her eyes at his overused _old man _card. He wasn't even that_ old_...at least he wasn't as old as her parents. She bit her tongue, wondering if older, married women were Baelish's thing. _Not my mother, you son of a bitch. _

"_Yeah, yeah_, we're almost home, okay? You can hang up now!" Rosie spoke up loudly, hoping her mother had heard her on the other end. After a few more polite exchanges into the phone, Baelish hung up and placed the phone back down. _What a relief, back to silence._ Rosie reached to turn the radio on once more, not knowing why she felt so irritated, but her hand was stopped by a gentle touch. She shivered at the cold sensation of metal rings against her skin, yanking her hand away to rest it on the wheel once more. He probably _was _trying to get her to crash the damn car.

"Thank you for humoring me today, my dear," He smiled at her jerky reaction, taking delight in having elicited such a strong response. Her hand had been soft beneath his fingers, and he craved to touch more of the girl. She gave him a cold stare before shrugging off his thanks.

"No problem, I guess," Aloof and terse was her response, but red cheeks gave the snappy girl away. His lips twitched into a knowing smile at her adolescent indifference. He'd set the young woman straight one day. Until then, he would be patient, keenly waiting for the perfect opportunity to engrave his name into her thoughts. He had _lied_ to Catelyn over the phone. Her daughter was _far_ from safe with him...and he was the _last person_ the Starks should have trusted their feisty daughter with.

Rosie finally pulled up to the large Stark estate, parking quickly and practically leaping out of the car. Baelish was weird, but he wasn't _all that bad_ at the end of the day...She curiously peered over at him as he calmly exited the car, his glinting eyes catching hers from the other side. An uncertain smile tugged at her lips.

"You've done me a great service, Rose. I ask that you accept a favor in return—a_nything you want_," He returned her girlish smile, eyes flashing over those pink lips as they briefly parted at his offer.

"_Anything?_" Her eyes seemed to brighten with interest at the suggestion of endless possibilities, and he knew the girl would keep him in mind if she ever found herself in need. If she asked him _nicely,_ he would even give her_ more_ than she wanted.

"Anything, anytime," Baelish stated simply once more, chuckling as blue eyes squinted at him in disbelief. He could see the girl's thoughts played upon her face as she genuinely considered his offer. _How endearing_.

"_Okay_...I'll keep your favor for a rainy day, then," Her youthful blush made him wish he could touch her again, if only to feel the warmth of her cheeks beneath his fingers. Darker thoughts of the girl sighing his name crossed his mind. _One day soon...Change _was coming to Winterfell.

* * *

Rosie lay sprawled out on her bed, mind wandering over the strange events of the day. Maybe Baelish wasn't so bad after all. She still had a lot of growing up to do and perhaps that was why Baelish and his maturity made her so uncomfortable. He _actually_ tried to treat her like an adult today. Rosie frowned, briefly wondering what the man thought of her.

Groaning in frustration, she rolled over and buried her face in a pillow. Her once well-defined feelings towards Baelish were suddenly growing muddled. She'd hated him for so long, but _something_ had changed today. She found herself wanting to prove herself to him, and although she would never admit it, she admired his dubious success and—_embarrassingly_—liked the dusting of silver at the front of his dark hair. Rosie shuddered at her own thoughts. She wasn't _actually _attracted to that creep, was she?He was old enough to be her _dad_. But he _was_ pretty damn sly with that mustache and those silver hairs of his—he always dressed and acted so proper, but there was just something _dirty_ about him. She kind of wanted to find out what it was…

_No_! This was _Baelish _she was thinking about. Her thoughts shifted once more as she briefly pondered what the cold rings on his fingers would feel like if he put them in-

She batted the thought away, groaning in frustration at the perverted imagery blooming in her head. No, she did _not_ want Baelish like that! It was going to be a long week. Hopefully she wouldn't be dreaming of riding Baelish's _Littlefinger_ by the end...

* * *

The next morning, Rosie woke up late, abandoning her previous routine of sneaking about the house in favor of facing whatever Baelish threw her way. She got ready and started to nervously make her way downstairs, only to see Jon round the corner with a sad yet determined look about him. Dark eyes widened as they caught sight of her, and she smiled down at him.

"Hey _early bird_, already had your morning run?"

Jon's frown seemed to grow at his sister's chipper tone. Rosie stopped halfway down the staircase, quickly realizing that this was not Jon's normal brooding.

"_What's wrong_?" Her brow furrowed as she stared at her brother in concern, awaiting his response.

He cast his head down, a pained look spreading across his features at the worry in her voice. Out of all the Stark siblings, she had always cared for him the most…

"I have something to tell you," His tone was grave as his eyes looked up to meet his sister's wide gaze. _ This was going to be very hard_. He had been dreading this moment for a long time now.

"Please, Jon. _Tell me_," Rosie stepped forward, stopping at the final step of the stairs to meet her brother's sad eyes. They searched her face as if looking for the right words before he rested a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm leaving tomorrow…" Despairing eyes met her own and his hand gently gripped her shoulder as she gasped, her eyes beginning to water as the reality of Jon's words set in.

"Please-" She wanted to convince him to stay, but Jon cut her off, pulling her into a hug.

"_Don't_, Rosie. I have to go. Uncle Benjen is here..." Jon stared down, his heart breaking at his younger sister's miserable expression. Rosie pulled away in realization.

"You're joining the _Night's Watch_…" Her voice broke in fear at the thought of Jon willingly risking his life. _She couldn't lose him._ He hugged her tighter, sighing sadly as he felt his shoulder grow damp from her tears.

"Don't worry, you'll have Robb and the others," Jon knew the Stark siblings would stick together, no matter how much Rosie claimed to be annoyed by the younger bunch. He heard her sniffle out a laugh through her bawling.

"You should tell Arya next," She puffed out, trying to negate her selfish crying with a false smile.

"_I will_," He returned the smile weakly, staring at the top of his sister's head as she simply hugged him, knowing that no words of his could comfort her. From the top of the staircase, a shadowy figure caught his eye.

Petyr Baelish was standing at the railing, hands clasped behind his back as his eyes focused on Rosie's unassuming form. His eyes shifted to meet Jon's stony gaze with a discerning smile and a nod before he moved on and vanished into the upper hallway. A grimace spread across Jon's features. He looked back down to Rosie, the distraught girl unaware of Baelish's previous attention. He lightly grabbed his sister's shoulders, knowing that something had to be said before he left.

"Rosie, _please_ stay away from Baelish," Jon pleaded with the redhead. Baelish was one of the last people he trusted around his family, and the look he had given his younger sister did not sit well with him. Rosie glanced up at Jon, pulling away and wiping off her tears with a furrowed brow at the mention of Baelish.

"_Of course _I will_,_" She rolled her eyes, feigning disgust towards the name despite her glowing cheeks.

"_I mean it, Rosie_," Jon fixed her with a serious look, not quite liking the flush on her cheeks.

"Don't worry, I won't go near him...I promise," She glanced down at her feet, not sure if she even believed that _herself._

Jon pat her shoulders at her response, backing away from the girl as she continued to look down. She was just like Bran—always looking at her feet while lying...Jon sighed, not wanting to press his sister further on the matter. He loved Rosie, but the girl was undeniably reckless and quick to grow defensive. Jon would not leave with his sister upset at him...and he would not leave until he had a word with Petyr Baelish…

* * *

**Jon is probably the most loyal and reliable of Ned's children. As a character, I wanted Rosie to share some good and bad qualities with her siblings, and Rosie is very similar to Sansa in terms of meaning well, but being bratty/spoiled/immature and easily manipulated—especially by a master like Baelish. Since this is a modern alternate universe, I think a modern world equivalent of Jon joining the Night's Watch would be joining a sort of of armed forces, and going to "The Wall" would be the equivalent of going to an unsafe warzone. I really enjoyed writing the car scene with Baelish and Rosie. The song equivalent that was playing that I had in mind was ZAYN's PILLOWTALK...I hate how that title is in all caps...I know this is an alternate GOT universe, so I didn't want to explicitly state what song it was...I also had Beyonce's 7/11 in mind, could you imagine? On a side note, some of the main themes for this chapter were based on the song Humming by Turnover. Am I weird for choosing individual chapter songs and playing them on repeat while I write? You'll be seeing more Robb and Theon in the next chapter! Please review, I like knowing what you guys think so far and what you want to see more of (Baelish and his ring-clad "Littlefingers" perhaps?) in future chapters! Until next time!**


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